Fairytale
by DolphinsAreJustGaySharkss
Summary: Quinn's not happy with her relationship with Sam. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the song Fairytale by Sara Bareilles.**

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"That's sloppy! How do you expect to win Regionals with this routine? Of course you won't! How does it feel to be _losers_?" Sue Sylvester shouted into her megaphone at the cheerleaders on the field. "Practice is over, and you have five minutes to get off my field, or I will personally shave off your eyebrows!"

Quinn Fabray rolled her eyes. Coach Sylvester always said the same thing each year, and each year they won the competition. Quinn saw a few freshman cheerleaders crying. _Better get used to it_, she thought unsympathetically as she walked off the field.

She ran up to Brittany, Santana, and two sophomores. They were talking about what they were doing with their boyfriends on Valentine's Day. Except for Santana, who seemed to be in a bad mood (no surprise there) and was looking at Brittany almost… regretfully? Weird.

"Cory's got a surprise for me," one of the sophomores announced.

Santana scoffed. "Oh yes, now you can read minds? How interesting. Maybe we should cut off your head and donate your brain for research. At least then you might _shut the hell up_!"

"Santana!" Quinn yelled.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Who died and made you queen?"

"Actually, the question would be 'who got a boob job and got demoted from head cheerleader?'. And the answer would be you," Quinn retorted.

Santana glared at her and stalked away towards her car.

"Well, look who's in a pleasant mood today," Quinn muttered sarcastically.

"I just finished telling everyone about my plans with Artie," Brittany said. "Do you want to know what we're going to do?"

"Sure," Quinn replied.

"Well. First, we're going to Breadsticks."

_Why the hell isn't there any place to eat in this town besides Breadsticks?_ Quinn thought,

"We're not going to order anything, we're just going to make out until they kick us out. Then we're going to see a movie, and we're going to make out. Then we're going to go home and make out and fool around a bit on my bed. Then we're going to eat the chocolate he's going to buy me," Brittany explained.

"And make out?" Quinn had to ask.

Brittany sighed. "No Quinn, we're not. I mean, what do you think we do when we're together? Just make out?"

"Um… of course not. I don't know what would make me think that."

"Yeah. I don't know what would make you think we just make out. Just yesterday I made him a pink valentine card. I also bought pink scissors with hearts on them for him. Because it's Valentine's Day! Get it?" Brittany laughed. "Speaking of scissors, I have to catch a ride with Santana," and with that, Brittany sped off towards Santana's car.

"What does that have to do wi-," Quinn shook her head. It was Brittany. Nothing she ever said made sense.

She turned towards the younger girls, but they were already headed towards their cars. People could be so rude. It's not like anyone took the time to ask her what she was doing for Valentine's Day. Quinn took out her phone to text Sam.

**To: Sam Evans**

**Hey do you want to go out together tonight?**

She waited for him to text him back. Which took about 5 minutes.

**From: Sam Evans**

**thnk god quinn i wantd to txt u but i was a litle embrsed me and a bunch of the fball team are playng black ops and no1 nos how to make a sndwch sry to ruin ur afernoon but can u help plz ill make it up 2 u we can go out nxt week mayb**

Quinn was seriously considering throwing her phone against the ground. And not just because of Sam's horrible spelling (she could be kind of a grammar nazi sometimes). Here she was, asking her boyfriend if he wanted to go out on a date, and he wanted a frickin' _sandwich_?

Maybe she was being a snob. Maybe she was expecting too much of him. But she knew that she didn't want to go to her boyfriend's house and make him a sandwich. When did they become 'that couple'?

So instead of throwing her expensive phone against the blacktop, Quinn decided to express herself in a different way, even if that way was a bit loser-y. Was that even a word? Loser-y? Oh well. She could write her own dictionary and make that a word for all she cared.

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"Mr. Schue? Can I have the keys to the auditorium? I'll give them back to you once I'm done," Quinn asked her teacher.

"Okay… what for?" Will asked.

"You know… sing… to express my… feelings…" Quinn barely got the words out. Did the rest of the glee club feel this way when they asked to sing about their feelings?

"I see," Will nodded.

_No, you don't_, Quinn thought. But instead she said, "Thanks."

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When Quinn got to the auditorium, Brad was still there, playing The Entertainer on his piano. _Does this guy sleep at the school or something?_ Quinn asked herself.

"Umm… okay… hit it…?" Quinn supposed he was psychic, seeing as he always knew what song to play in glee rehearsals.

Brad just sat there.

"Uhh, okay… Fairytale by Sara Bareilles," Quinn said.

Brad just looked at her with a questioning look on his face.

"Oh my god, I'm going to go crazy here, can't you just _talk_?"

"Fine, you don't have to be a bitch about it," Brad finally muttered.

"On second thought, I like it when you're quiet," Quinn sighed.

Brad shrugged and started to play.

Quinn sat down in a chair and began to sing. She didn't know exactly why she needed the chair. Oh well, she'd just go with it and pretend she knew what she was doing.

**_Cinderella's on the bedroom floor She's got a_**

**_Crush on the guy from the liquor store_**

**_Cause Mr. Charming don't come home anymore_**

**_And she forgets why she came here._**

Quinn was glad she could use singing as an emotional outlet, or else she probably would have exploded from anger by now. She stood up from her chair, somewhat awkwardly, and not at all gracefully. It fell on the floor.

**_Cause I don't care,_**

**_For your fairytales_**

**_You're so worried bout the maiden though you know she's only waiting_**

_**For the next best thing**._

The next best thing. This was a perfect way to describe Sam. Deny it all she wants, Quinn knew that Sam was only the next best thing.

**_Snow White is doing dishes again _**

**_Cause what else could you do with _**

**_Seven itty bitty men_**

**_Sends them to bed and she calls up a friend_**

**_Says will you meet me at midnight._**

This was kind of how Quinn felt. Only without the little dwarf guys.

**_Cause I don't care,_**

**_For your fairytales _**

**_You're so worried bout the maiden though you know she's only waiting _**

**_For the next best thing. _**

Quinn picked up the chair.

**_Once upon a time in a far away kingdom_**

**_Man made up a story said that I should believe him_**

**_Go and tell your white knight that he's handsome in hindsight_**

**_But I don't want the next best thing. _**

She kicked over the chair, tears springing up in her eyes. She couldn't help but keep on getting angrier.

**_So I sing,_**

**_I hold my head down _**

**_And I break these walls round _**

**_Can't take no more of your fairytale love._**

It wasn't just because of the sandwich.

**_I don't care,_**

**_For your fairytales_**

**_You're so worried bout the maiden though you know she's only waiting _**

**_On the next best thing._**

And with that, the face of the 'best thing' popped into her head.

**_I don't care_**

**_I don't care_**

**_Worried bout the maiden though you know she's only waiting_**

**_Spent her whole life being graded on the sanctity of patience_**

**_And a dumb appreciation_**

**_But the story needs some mending and a better happy ending_**

**_Cause I don't want the next best thing._**

Quinn would be a single woman this Valentine's Day.

**_No no no I don't want the next best thing._**

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And in case you were wondering, the 'best thing' she was thinking of is Puck. Yes, I am a Quick shipper. Sorry that nothing really happened after the song started.


End file.
